Lit Holiday Poem Swap

[butters]

I have had my poetry compared to dog shit before, but never in such a good way.

lol - wellllll, the first bit was more how you rubbed people up the wrong way at first + your peculiar brand of ''enthusiasm'' we're used to you now, lol.

You render history one two-haired brushstroke at a time.
Sometimes just the barest of shadows
leaving an imprint on my retina,
mixing precision with that quality inherent
in us all, but which eludes my pen too often.

A surgeon's touch tempered by Mother Teresa's heart.

greenmountaineer, right?

I found the one meant for me, Sola. I'm so glad you stayed and found love. Merry Christmas to you too darling. May yours be only joy.

 

[Sinseria]

Tis Christmas

Tis Christmas, tis Christmas
Once again that time of year

As the little demons appear
decorating the house
adorning that holiday cheer.

Prancing they go
hanging lights and balls
0f course the tree too

Stockings are filled
presents and whips for all
with innocent gifts too
crafted for each of you

Wrapped with care
those new precious toys
for all you girls and boys

While they roast
their tainted mouse
for a dinner divine
with a sweet apple pie

As they wish you all
sweet joy and cummings
all through the new year!



hehe merry christmas everyone

 

[Angeline]

Tis Christmas, tis Christmas
Once again that time of year

As the little demons appear
decorating the house
adorning that holiday cheer.

Prancing they go
hanging lights and balls
0f course the tree too

Stockings are filled
presents and whips for all
with innocent gifts too
crafted for each of you

Wrapped with care
those new precious toys
for all you girls and boys

While they roast
their tainted mouse
for a dinner divine
with a sweet apple pie

As they wish you all
sweet joy and cummings
all through the new year!



hehe merry christmas everyone

Sin, I like your sense of humor. Merry Christmas.

 

[Sinseria]

Sin, I like your sense of humor. Merry Christmas.

Heh thanks Hun merry Christmas!

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

no-one does erotic quite like she
who else could turn a humble dowel
quite so phallic-ly?
oh! fortunate walter!
no chemicals required
just her naiad, slippery, sleek
and every man holds his breath
hearts bucking like mules
living out those sucking moments
the gifts within her skills.

so my thankyou's more than paper crown
to wear upon your brow
it reads, in lights, Erotic Queen
'n' you can wear it all year round

(Walter and his dowel, a bitofa give-away) Thanks butters.

 

[Angeline]

You understand
about Jersey tomatoes
and Silver Queen corn,
that the Garden State
is filled with gardens,
and once upon a time
farms lined Route 1.

I'm Douglass and you
(was it?) Seton Hall.
We could have been
buddies or passed by
the bar at Tumulty's,
while the train rattled
overhead, both of us
blessed and scarred
by that looming giant,
New York.

Now you're among granite
and snow. Frost has crept
into your poems. When I read
you I hear a familiar voice,
an altar boy grown wise-cracked
and far-seeing. When I read
you, I hear the voice
of home.

Though I don't really know
you I value your words.
You are gentle, a gentleman.

 

[butters]

You understand
about Jersey tomatoes
and Silver Queen corn,
that the Garden State
is filled with gardens,
and once upon a time
farms lined Route 1.

I'm Douglass and you
(was it?) Seton Hall.
We could have been
buddies or passed by
the bar at Tumulty's,
while the train rattled
overhead, both of us
blessed and scarred
by that looming giant,
New York.

Now you're among granite
and snow. Frost has crept
into your poems. When I read
you I hear a familiar voice,
an altar boy grown wise-cracked
and far-seeing. When I read
you, I hear the voice
of home.

Though I don't really know
you I value your words.
You are gentle, a gentleman.

a gm tribute? wonderful. specially like the bold text, your use of Frost nestled in with granite and snow as it is. kudos.

 

[butters]

(Walter and his dowel, a bitofa give-away) Thanks butters.

obscurity didn't feel right for this one

 

[Angeline]

a gm tribute? wonderful. specially like the bold text, your use of Frost nestled in with granit and snow as it is. kudos.

Thankee. I ran around like crazy doing errands for hours today and came home, sat down and out came this poem, like in five minutes. Sometimes I get to go on automatic pilot and the muse does most of the work! I think I got the college reference wrong though.


Here's another version of The Christmas Song, a beautiful dreamy version.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

no-one does erotic quite like she
who else could turn a humble dowel
quite so phallic-ly?
oh! fortunate walter!
no chemicals required
just her naiad, slippery, sleek
and every man holds his breath
hearts bucking like mules
living out those sucking moments
the gifts within her skills.

so my thankyou's more than paper crown
to wear upon your brow
it reads, in lights, Erotic Queen
'n' you can wear it all year round

I haven't the slightest idea whom this is about, but I certainly enjoyed the poem.

Subsequent edit: a little bird reminded me of the poem which inspired this. Yes, a lovely tribute to a worthy poetess.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

Actually, there is one person I know well enough to write for:

You've hidden your bangles, your bells,
but I know where to look
within the warm, familiar vaults of your imagination;
I'll find them all.
And I shall adorn you, my dear friend,
with every little golden thing,
the tintinnabulation of my heart
shall jostle your toes, your fingers and the rest,
And you shall have music wherever you go.

 

[Minervous]

Rêve fou

Give me a man who understands the beat
To make iambic lines pentameter.
(He’s prob’ly married, more’s the shame.) But still,
His backside’s trim, and, well, Chemin de fer—

My cards are neither eight nor nine, so carte.
And now I channel Monsieur Bonaparte.
If I lose to the bank, well then, tant pis!
I’ve liked your poems. I’ve liked your company.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Isn't it strange that you and I,
so far apart, not only in miles
but in likes and dislikes,
should find a bosom friend
in circumstances so strange?
Your heart is my heart,
your hurting mine as if as one.
What more can I say
other than I love you?

 

[Tzara]

i'm having a hard time guessing to whom most of these are addressed

As am I, but that's perhaps how a thread like this should work. N'est-ce pas?

 

[AlwaysHungry]

Rêve fou

Give me a man who understands the beat
To make iambic lines pentameter.
(He’s prob’ly married, more’s the shame.) But still,
His backside’s trim, and, well, Chemin de fer—

My cards are neither eight nor nine, so carte.
And now I channel Monsieur Bonaparte.
If I lose to the bank, well then, tant pis!
I’ve liked your poems. I’ve liked your company.

I'm new kid on the block here, you can tell;
I find these poems quite difficult to parse.
But I can follow links -- and there's my arse!
Dear, making your acquaintance has been swell.

 

[Angeline]

I like to imagine you
laughing and laughing,
your hair a streak of flame
as you flash through the clouds,
you and Janis, psychedelic
in a Mercedes Benz.

You lived hard
and Lord you were loved.
Blues can be passionate joy.
You belt them loud and pure,
just like an angel.

 

[greenmountaineer]

Looking Out the Window

Words of encouragement as soft as Pond's Cream come from across the pond.

 

[greenmountaineer]

Sometime After Midnight

Having no Starbucks, I savor your poems with Green Mountain coffee.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Rêve fou

Give me a man who understands the beat
To make iambic lines pentameter.
(He’s prob’ly married, more’s the shame.) But still,
His backside’s trim, and, well, Chemin de fer—

My cards are neither eight nor nine, so carte.
And now I channel Monsieur Bonaparte.
If I lose to the bank, well then, tant pis!
I’ve liked your poems. I’ve liked your company.

I'm new kid on the block here, you can tell;
I find these poems quite difficult to parse.
But I can follow links -- and there's my arse!
Dear, making your acquaintance has been swell.

This made me laugh out loud.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

Rêve fou

Give me a man who understands the beat
To make iambic lines pentameter.
(He’s prob’ly married, more’s the shame.) But still,
His backside’s trim, and, well, Chemin de fer—

My cards are neither eight nor nine, so carte.
And now I channel Monsieur Bonaparte.
If I lose to the bank, well then, tant pis!
I’ve liked your poems. I’ve liked your company.

I was shaken, not stirred, by your allusion to that particular game.

I would also like to go on record as saying that of all the monikers I have seen at Lit, yours is the coolest.

 

[Trixareforkids]

I was shaken, not stirred, by your allusion to that particular game.

I would also like to go on record as saying that of all the monikers I have seen at Lit, yours is the coolest.

Now that made me laugh!

 

[butters]

I like to imagine you
laughing and laughing,
your hair a streak of flame
as you flash through the clouds,
you and Janis, psychedelic
in a Mercedes Benz.

You lived hard
and Lord you were loved.
Blues can be passionate joy.
You belt them loud and pure,
just like an angel.

boo?

As am I, but that's perhaps how a thread like this should work. N'est-ce pas?

c'est possible

 

[Angeline]

boo?


c'est possible

Yes. Sweet Boo.

 

[butters]

I haven't the slightest idea whom this is about, but I certainly enjoyed the poem.

Subsequent edit: a little bird reminded me of the poem which inspired this. Yes, a lovely tribute to a worthy poetess.

cheers

Words of encouragement as soft as Pond's Cream come from across the pond.

17 syllables or less... ku-wel

 

[UnderYourSpell]

You frightened the hell out of me!
No pussyfooting around,
a say it as it is kinda gal!
To tell the truth
I didn't even like you.
But then ....... then
I found your heart of gold,
the way you cared, passionately,
about poetry, anybody's
not just your own,
had to make each poet
the best they could be.
The slap across the arse
which was deserved,
sent me off in a huff
but you weren't having that!
Thank you girl, long gone,
but still ......... still
I remember that damn
Dildo chair!